26 cuts I have upon my arm
It's what I did, it's called self-harm
They never seem to go away
No matter how much I pray
There they stay
Every single day
I don't wear long sleeves because they're faded
They remind me of the me I hated
But the me I hated is the same me now
Only less sweat upon my brow
I never want to go to school
Because I never fit in with those who are "cool"
I have many friends, but only trust few
Because who knows what information they'll spew?
I didn't use a razor, I used scissors and broken glass
Now these scars are part of my past
I am the girl who's good at sports and singing
But in my head, the voices keep ringing
"Do it again, it'll help," they say
"No," I reply, and wanna run away
But they're in there, they're inside my head
So I lay in bed
Not wanting to get up, wanting to be dead
My parents know, so I have to stop
But do the cravings to start again stop?
Most definitely not
The sensation I felt was so hot
Like the bottom of a boiling stove pot
Wanting to start again, from the top
But not wanting to get caught
Because time would not stop
Like my blood
Drip, drop, drip, drop...